


My Own Slice Of Heaven

by CaptainJimothyCarter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels, World War Threesome Feels, you will cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter
Summary: These are Steve Rogers's final moments as he lays dying after his final battle.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Peggy Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes/Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	My Own Slice Of Heaven

He’s not sure what the killing strike is. The  _ final  _ strike that makes him fully aware that he’s not going to survive. That he will not see the end of this war. As his eyes slowly open to the red dust and carnage around him, the struggling blonde can see what they were fighting for. What he’s known all along.

_ Humanity. _

Fighting for those who cannot fight themselves, fighting for those who could not help themselves.

That’s who they fight for.

And as each breath struggles to fill burning, he’s aware that this is his last battle.

_ He’s coming home. _

His legs give out first, the broken shield clattering from his hands. The leather strap had been broken for some time now, the only thing keeping the gash from leaking out. Now he can feel the stinging pain, the hot and sticky blood running down his palm. He leaves stains of his palm print on the metallic backside of the shield.

The pain is lost in comparison to the burning sensation that fills his lungs.

He feels like he’s drowning - it’s not the smog of the city, or in the cold depths of the ocean. 

His head is woozy in a manner that feels familiar, he’s losing far too much blood. There’s another wound somewhere beyond the one on his arm, beyond the one that still finds the source to bleed. Maybe it’s the stinging in his side, maybe it’s the pain stabbing him in the back.

The pain all melts together at this point, one bundle of pain that is burning to a point in his chest.

That’s where his life force is, his heart, having beaten for so long, far too long, with too much turmoil on it, is struggling to continue.

_ “Steve?” _

His eyes must’ve closed at some point as he struggles to remain kneeling on the ground because he’s forcing them to open. That’s Sam. He can hear the strain in his voice - the worry. He’s sorry. He can’t speak, he can’t find the words to tell him how sorry he is.

_ “Steve? Bucky, make a path to Steve.” _

At least he’s not alone as he slowly loses the fight with gravity. Before his face can touch the blood-soaked dirt, he finds two pairs of hands on him. They support him and he’s laid back in someone’s arms. 

Bucky is above him, tears shimmering in his silver eyes. He’s trying not to cry, as he has for so long, trying not to cry when Steve laid in his arms, dying. It’s too much and he bends his head over, tears leaking out of his face to sob. His lips tremble as he lays a kiss on his forehead, it burns in comparison to the rest of him.

_ “Tony, we have-” _

Steve’s hand trembles as it raises, stopping Bucky from speaking. He knows that tone, even if his ears are roaring. He’s begging. This time he’s not begging a doctor or his ma to  _ do something,  _ he’s begging Tony, the man he’s fought with for so long, been on opposite sides with, just to come together one last time to save humanity.

“N-no,” he whispers, his lips feel like they’re barely moving. “Don’t. Its...too late.”

Sam is on his left, as he always had been. His right-hand man. One of his best friends. His face is a wreck with tears, barely holding it together. How much of this reminds him of Riley? Of having to hold his other lover to keep them from dying alone?

His hands brush Steve’s side and the gasp from his lips tell him all - the  _ horror  _ in it as his uniform, the tattered remains are pulled up to expose the long, ragged gashes Thanos’s sword had left behind.

He’s amazed he’s survived this long, possibly on spite and the serum alone. To see the end of a battle that should’ve never been.

“It’s too late,” Tony whispers, his suit clanking against the rocks as he kneels next to him. His face scrunched up like that reminds him of Howard, the time the eccentric genius had sung a German boy to sleep so he didn’t die alone. “It’s too late!”

There’s that anger, the frustrated,  _ I-must-save-everyone  _ anger that comes as he punches the ground. A hand is on Tony’s shoulder before Thor is in his sight. He doesn’t try to hold back the tears and sobs openly.

“You fought bravely,” he tells Steve in a steady tone that  _ barely  _ holds it together. “You will find peace in Valhalla. All we have done, could not have been without you.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

It’s Clint who asks that, the blonde archer sounds betrayed. Disgusted. Horrified. Emotions congratulate together to create the ugly beast that grows when he’s bottled up. 

“We could’ve helped you,” he insisted, looking to Bruce, to Tony, even to Strange for help. The sorcerer just shakes his head ever so slightly.

“No,” Steve breathed, the word barely audible. “I was beyond help before you...you all arrived. I didn’t want to… - we had to…”

A cough leaves blood on his lips and Bucky’s hand is using the end of his shirt to clean it away. How many times has he’s done that in their youth?

“You’re so stupid,” Bucky whispers, laying his flesh hand on the captain’s cheek. “So damn stupid. You weren’t beyond saving, you never are, you-you always have a plan.  _ Please.”  _

He’s begging. The tears haven’t stopped. He’s been far too quiet. Every emotion, every word, every forgotten memory weighs on his best friend’s shoulders. He clings to his body, a new wave of pain overtakes him. It’s almost dull at this point.

“You can’t leave me, Stevie, you can’t. Not after...not after...everything…”

His body curls around him, reminding Steve since childhood of a snake, ready and poised to strike to save his best friend. 

“You gotta,” Steve whispers in response, finding the strength to touch Bucky’s cheek again. His thumb wipes away a few tears. “You gotta let me go, buddy. It’s my time. We-we always knew I’d die before you. You’ll be okay.”

Bucky shakes his head but Steve doesn’t see it. His eyes are struggling to stay open, it’s a battle, one of the last battles he’ll ever face.

“Just...just tell me…” he starts to say but he can’t finish. 

Bucky knows what he’s asking, hiccuping as a hysterical sob leaves his lips. He’s trying to hold it together but the dam is breaking. No one blames him.

“Yeah, Stevie. We-we won. It’s...it’s okay. Go...go be with her. Tell...tell her...tell her I’m okay, that we won. I…”

The last words are not heard, but Steve knows them. 

_ I love you.  _

Funny, he’s loved him too. In the same manner, he’s always loved Peggy.

They were a team, the three of them. Supporting in ways the others could not.

_ Peggy.  _

That’s his relief, the selfish relief in this long death.

He’ll get to see Peggy again - he’ll get to be with her. His death will wear down on Bucky’s shoulders but he will survive. He’ll find support in Sam, in Clint, in Tony, in everyone. He’ll move on. 

The Captain’s last breath rattles in his chest, body slumping against the blood-stained ground.

He’s thought about death much in his childhood and adult life. First, it was his own body giving out on him. Ailments too much for him to fight, a simple cold could do him in. Then, it was the war where every day was a battle to survive. To find the right route, to save as many people as he could. There was The Howling Commandos and Peggy to find solace in, to trade fears and worries back and forth until they’re no longer irrational and you all admit, underneath it all, you fear dying.

Because Steve feared dying.

He feared that great beyond, no matter what religious tomb said, no matter what you believed in, there was no solace in dying and knowing what you left behind. 

There was no  _ Final Voyage.  _

He’s not taken out on a boat in the middle of the sea and given one last voyage. He dies as he’s lived, fighting for other’s lives who cannot save themselves.

Yet, he’s not alone.

Someone is waiting for him, a familiar face with familiar red lips and golden eyes waits for him. 

She’s always waited for him.

_ “You’re late.” _

The voice resonates through him, taking if any breath he still has on his lungs from him. Her hand reaches out to take his and he finds any wounds and dirt from battle washed away under one touch.

Her hand moves to cup his jawline and he melts into her touch, eyes shimmering as they finally meet.

Peggy smiles and pulls him in for a kiss, Steve’s arms tighten around her frame. 

_ “I had some things I needed to do first. I think...I’m ready to go home.” _

He laughs. It feels good to laugh, to not be in pain, to not have guilt choking him.

_ “You’re home now, Steven. You can rest.”  _ Her hand tightens in his as he looks back, he sees nothing behind him but a pillar of darkness. His chest squeezes at the sight but there’s guilt there, there’s the pain.  _ “You can rest now, Steven. They’ll be okay. You’ve done your part.” _

_ “We won,”  _ he whispers in relief.

She pulls him along, one step turns to two, before they fall in line with one another, walking closer to the veil of fog around them. She pauses before they take that final step. She doesn’t say it is, but he knows it.

_ “Welcome home, my darling.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader, I am sorry for the pain I've caused. I have cried too writing this.


End file.
